Time Bombs and Warheads
by lightsie
Summary: The Doctor and Clara had only been to Trenzalore once before, but that was on much better circumstances. This time was war. An early call from Vastra some five years ago had the Doctor saying see you later to Clara and hello to another war. How will Clara cope while the Doctor is away, the face of death always lurking and her unknowing being her only reality?


_It was early and cold, that's what I first remember_. In a tired haze, Clara Oswald smacked at the alarm clock, not remembering what she had set it for. It was a Saturday, so it wasn't for work. A groan passed her cracked lips as she rolled onto her back, throwing an arm across her face. Taking a big breath, there were still remnants of a burnt pastry swirling in the air. It was the soufflé she'd made yesterday, for when the sold-. The brunette sat up abruptly, any hints of sleep leaving her cluttered eyes. She let out a yawn as to clear her eyes – they would tear up when she didn't let out that morning sigh – before shoving her comforter off so she could start getting ready.

The date was the 10th of April, 2013. The day that the soldiers returned from Trenzalore. Whether or not the war was over was a mystery, the Doctor was only drafted for the minimum amount of time—five years. Another war that the Doctor fought in. Even the details that the companion knew weren't supposed to be shared but she wasn't going to let the Doctor pop off with a good chance of not returning. A call from Vastra on 13 January, 2008, was the day that changed not only the Doctor's life but Clara's as well forever. The annoying ringing lasted for about twenty seconds on that cold morning in Lancashire before the Time Lord answered, bolting straight up at the mention of the graveyard planet. Trenzalore. As the Doctor began frantically packing up the little belongings he had, the brunette watched him in fear and confusion.

"Doctor?" she asked sleepily. "What're you doing? Who was that? Wha's happening?"

"Timey stuff, Clara. Trenzalore."

At those words the Doctor smacked his palm to his forehead before the small statured girl had clambered out of bed quickly, grabbing his arm. It was a mistake to let out that much information, he knew the second the short lived talk had begun.

"Sorry, did you just say _Trenzalore_?"

"Yes. There appears to be… a war."

"Sorry—war?!" she sputtered before watching him pack, realization dawning on her. "You're not going. No. You still have blood from the Time War on your hands and I am not letting you go."

"Clara I have to."

"No! You don't. Please. Please don't go."

He sat down on the bed then, letting out a big sigh and running a hand through his floppy mop. He was only in a tee shirt and boxers but soon he'd be putting on his suit and bow tie as he got ready for departure. Ready to start training. As Vastra explained to him, every living thing that could help against this war with the Daleks was necessary. He wasn't about to risk his nor Clara's lives. Of course with him being the Doctor, he was an asset and he'd be fighting alongside a familiar face; Strax – who shouldn't even be fighting seeing as he _should_ be a nurse.

"Clara," he whispered with a small fond smile as he took her hands and pulled him so she was facing him and standing between his legs. "My Clara."

"You can't go," she murmured, looking down at him and shaking her head. He couldn't, not after she had just saved him. Not after they had just gotten back to normal, whatever it could be considered for a time travelling alien and his companion.

Picturing the Doctor on the front lines of Trenzalore, armed with a gun and instructing other soldiers how to act terrified her. A version of her had seen him the day of the fall of Gallifrey, a day that was now changed. A day that she doesn't remember anymore. The Doctor had just gotten into the net she had laid out since the day they'd met, though, and she wasn't planning on tossing her fish back to the crashing tides.

"What if I promise you something, Clara?" he breathed, looking up into her eyes with a smile curving on his thin lips. "That I'll come home to you. Like I always do."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Trust me, Clara Oswald. This is a promise I intend to keep. I'm the Doctor, remember?"

"You're stupid," Clara laughed as she tried not to let her sadness show, helping the man up and nodding over her shoulder a bit. "Your clothes should be folded over on the chair."

"Thank you."

Within twenty minutes the Doctor was dressed, his bag slung over his shoulder and they were in the foyer. Clara was trying to hold in her tears, taking big deep breaths as the Doctor kept trying to crack stupid jokes.

"Be sure to call me, yeah? On that spacey phone of yours." She smirked.

"I will if I can," he shot back earnestly before pulling her into a hug. "I love you Clara Oswald. See you later."

Just like that, with a feel of his lips on her forehead, Clara watched her Doctor begin the march to battle, reaching the TARDIS in a few strides. She leaned against the doorjamb, smiling softly at him and waving when he looked over his shoulder.

"I love you."


End file.
